


Distant and impossible (near,possible,inevitable)

by sunflowercathy



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternative Universe - College, Angst, Eventual Romance, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Hurt/Comfort, Jughead is a sucker for poetry and Betty, Pining, Slow Burn, Writer!Jughead, best friends au, bughead - Freeform, unrequited feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-03-26 05:26:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13851045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunflowercathy/pseuds/sunflowercathy
Summary: A College AU in which Jughead is a moping English major that is obsessed with quotes and seeing poetry everywhere he looks.Especially his platonic,long-time,out of reach best friend, who decides the best way to cope with cronic stress is dating every guy that even looks in her direction - making Jughead die a little more inside each day. Until one night, when he makes a rushed decision.





	1. Bluebird

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea what this is, except me shamelessly indulging myself by combining my love of cheesy quotes with my passion for angsty, slowburn, pining bughead AU's. This will probably be 3 chapters or so, so pleasee comment any suggestions or opinions you may have, I'm so excited to share my very first bughead fic! And say hello to me on tumblr, my account is @stydiaandthejeep  
> Huge shoutout to Leah,@izzy--bella004 my awesome beta who did me a huge favor actually, thank you so much!  
> p.s the poem mentioned is Bluebird by Charles Bukowski

“For a few seconds they looked silently into each other’s eyes, and the distant and impossible suddenly became near, possible and inevitable”  
Tolstoy, War and Peace

________

Jughead could feel the headache he was about to nurse for the rest of the evening (and the following morning too) creep in as soon as he walked through his front door, tossing his keys in a ridiculously pretentious crystal bowl (a housewarming gift from Veronica to Archie that Jughead made sure to tease him endlessly about, but that he was now begrudgingly using).

He sighed deeply walking through the living room and into their kitchen where he located the voices of Veronica-and-Betty ; his head felt dizzy with the prospect that the sudden interior design change promised: red cups stacked everywhere, a variation worthy of a liquor store selection sprawled out on the buffet, unopened industrial-size bags of chips and dip. To cut it short, a party, one he had received no mention about, one that was sure to be loud, over the top, much alike anything Veronica planned, and a bitch to clean up after tomorrow.

  
His day had been filled to the brim with classes, stressful assignments, three cups of espresso, dark circles under his eyes, re-reading the same Shakespeare paragraph a million twice because his mind wouldn’t listen to reason and just focus, hands shaky on his paper cup. His dark demure screamed the complete opposite of ‘ready to party, and he made sure to bring it along like a cartoon rain of storm over his head when he walked in the kitchen.His friends were positioned in different places, obviously discussing further details of the future get-together. Before inevitably making a sarcastic remark about it, Jughead did a quick reading of the people in the room, hoping to maybe find a glimmer of undecideness in someone’s eyes. Archie had the same puppy eyes he always sported around Veronica, eager to agree to anything that made her happy.

He nodded a hello in his direction through a mouthful of chips he was eating and continued quickly directing his attention to his bag of Doritos. Veronica, very formal with her reading glasses on and ticking off items of a pink piece of paper, didn’t pay him much mind. His dynamic with Veronica had always been odd, yet somehow functional, both of them sarcastic and cynical in ways the others lacked. It came natural for him to accept her into their friend group when Betty introduced her as her new roommate; later, when Archie came home with sparkling eyes, smiling like a maniac and spewing off ‘I told her I love her,Jug’, after just a month of seeing Veronica, he knew this was quite possibly it for his best friend - and without admitting or wanting to, he let her in even more, and so his quiet approval, which Archie obviously desired ,balanced their new group to a happy peaceful state.

  
Well. Almost. His eyes landed on Betty, softening instantly, her sight painting a certain color on his face - the first time you open your window after a harsh winter and the sun actually shines bright enough to warm you, kind-of-color. A little smile escaped her lips, only for him to see, and he couldn’t help but reply - he had no choice, the weakness hitting him right in the knees, and in his chest, where he kept all his favorite things, things that made this miserable, absurd life worthwhile - coffee, the smell of fresh ink, memories of him and JB playing in the trailer as kids, and Betty’s smile. (some would call him a downer, some a romantic, and who was he to judge either). He smirked back at her, loving the way she always fumbled under too much direct eye contact, which was quickly followed by her mouthing 'Don’t’ at him and then continuing to dry dishes by the sink, while Veronica went on about needing more soda and hiring a DJ. Jughead was left in the dark for a few moments, not exactly being able to place his finger on what he wasn’t supposed to be doing, but a closer look at Betty was the only clue he needed - obviously, she wasn’t keen on this idea either.

  
She was beautiful, like she always was, and like Jughead always saw her, as much of a given to him as the cerulean color of the sky midsummer, beautiful in the way a sentence in which his words managed to flow in perfect harmony was. He was never one to believe signs of being human, like dark circles or bitten nails, diminished someone’s appeal. However, she looked worn, tired, an aura of grey emotions traveling alongside her through the room- the messy bun on top of her head, the nails he knew were drilling into her already deep scars (he knew because he almost felt them in his own palms), and her eyes, a window full of light he could write a book of poems about, had he felt particularly cheesy, that were now visibly red rimmed, her dark circles almost competing with his. Suddenly he understood what “Don’t” meant: don’t try to make me a partner in trying to shut this down, it’s already happening, don’t ask me while I’ve been obviously crying, not right now, with everyone around.

  
Jughead couldn’t complain about much. He had a roof over his head (that he never took for granted). There was no denying that certain events had chipped away at him, leaving him a puzzle with mismatched pieces. He carried a weight inside him everywhere he went, a steady current of melancholy that would turn to a certain hue of despair on his particularly bad days. The feeling of uselessness drilled into him as a kid, vivid memories of his father breaking a bear bottle against the wall of the living room, the cold shiver trailing through his body every night of sleeping on the school floor. All these intertwined with his personality, growing up alongside him; he found escape in his words, which he obsessed over, written everywhere around him, on every piece of paper and napkin he could find, endless post it notes taped to his walls, written in pen on his hands. His relative sanity was also the merit of the blond girl currently arranging the cups in his cabinet and pretending really hard not to look like she’s on the verge of tears. (it didn’t work for him, it never did, he could tell by her shivering bottom lip and by everything else, too)

  
His shoulders slumped, a shadow of worry and slight frustration casted on his face; Betty had always been light in his life, simply put. Ever since they were little, and she was nothing but a little blonde girl that offered to sit with him at lunch because no one else did, she was the one providing him with a steady flow of hope, hope that all the clichés are true and that it will eventually get better. Which, it did, in some aspects, because he had Archie and Betty there to keep him floating when his dad failed their family over and over again, when he was left sleeping anywhere he could scramble a shelter, when he didn’t have money to pay for his books or a tuxedo for prom. And yes, Archie was his brother, more than blood could make them related, but Betty - she was a good enough reason for him to get up.

  
She was laughter hidden behind shy mouths, a spark of pure life injected into his bloodstream one beaming smile at a time. He thanked his lucky stars he had the honor to be her friend each day, and wondered immensely each time he turned to look to her from his driver seat and got to see her singing silly along to the radio, wind in her hair. It was saddening seeing her like this, in a time that was supposed to be the prime of their lives - first year of college, finally set free of parental chains and out to discover themselves; he knew Betty struggled with school, and as a result she quickly developed the toxic habit of looking for validation in other people, trying to find meaningful connections with boys she barely had anything in common with. He didn’t know what to do with that, not even sure if it was his place to try helping.

  
It also didn’t help that he was completely and pathetically in love with her, and had been for God knows how long.

  
He sought her eyes again and when he finally managed to catch them, he lightly touched the tip of his nose - their agreed sign for 'we needs to talk, alone.’ .She nodded briefly, so Jughead knew if he walked out and into his room she would soon follow . He walked out and to his bedroom, his eyes stopping on a piece of paper recently stacked on top of the dozen others on his bedside “And now /You are/And I am/And we’re a mystery/ That will never happen again. E.E Cummings” - which made him smile, amused at his own weakness. Jughead let himself collapse on his bed and stare at the ceiling, trying to empty his brain for a few moments - he knew it was in vain in the light of the sadness he’d just read off her.

  
He started murmuring the first few lines of 'Bluebird’, observing the inky veins that appear on his skin and the way his heart spikes with little pulses of pain each time a memory of blonde hair sprawled out on his duvet bubbles up. 'There’s a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out , but I’m too tough for him" - he smiles bitterly because he knows his own bluebird sings a song reminiscent of dawn breaking over a trailer park in July.

  
A realization hit him, that it also sometimes sung like her giggle echoing in the supermarket parking lot at 1 am, too. Betty owned him nothing, and she expected nothing from him too, didn’t owe him any sort of feelings being reciprocated ( they never were ) or explanation on why that was, he was aware of that much. Yet they were tied together too tightly for his stupid brain to leave this honey-colored fog, attached to an impossible idea of finding what it would be like to feel her skin against him and mean it, and know that she knows she is loved. The boundaries they were dangerously flirting with were hard to place - they were friends, maybe best friends, and yet she had slept in his arms after almost every break up that left her wondering what was so broken and impossible about her. This last one had been particularly tough, her ex making sure to drag out the departure for two long weeks in which he explained with a vengeance every reason she was both too little and too much to handle.

  
Jughead unconsciously balled his hands into fist at the thought. Anger seeped out of his every pore throughout the entire time Betty described Adam’s goodbye monologue, but he made sure to hide it and show nothing but support to her, refraining from making comments or giving advice and leaning more on hugging and bringing snacks and blankets. In reality, he wanted to find that asshole and snap his neck.

  
'What’s a bluebird?’ He jerked his body up from his bed in surprise, too engrossed in his own mind to notice her walk in. The blonde looked a bit less like she was about to cry, more so tired, Jughead observed. He patted the spot next to him, indicating for her to sit down, which she did, crossing her legs under herself and very obviously avoiding eye contact. Jughead frowned 'Huh?’   
'Before. You were mumbling something about a bluebird.’ she explained, letting her eyes wander over the ridiculous amount of quotes displayed on every available surface of his room, stacks of dusty books taking up place alongside a few forgotten cacti. He smiled, a bit embarrassed at being caught talking to himself like a lunatic. 'Ah, that’s a poem, actually. One I like to say out loud sometimes.’ Her eyes darted to him, Jughead painfully observing her lick her lips slowly, gaze growing wide with curiosity.   
'Because we all know I need help maintaining my weirdo reputation.’, he added, trying to lighten the intense mood that swirled around the two of them. Although Betty was obviously far from okay, her body language showed how comfortable she was around him, inching closer to him, her fingers playing with the sleeve of his flannel; his body screamed to get her in his arms, and he could swear she would be warm like the sun if he did. He didn’t.

'How does it go?’  
Choosing to skip over the part where Bukowski explains how he uses alcohol and prostitutes to deal with his sadness, Jughead continues in what he hopes is a monotone voice, words flowing in a way that hides how much emotion he’s invested behind them because this is her, not anyone else, listening to his stupidly precious poem.

  
'There’s a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out/But I’m too clever, I only let him out at night sometimes/ When everybody’s asleep/ I say, I know that you’re there, so don’t be sad.’ Their hands are now touching, her pinky finger softly caressing his, breath catching in his throat as soon as he looks up through the threads that fall over his eyes and into hers and finds there a swirling galaxy of wonder, sadness and warmth that could set fire to his entire body and make his soul dance wicked. A soft breath escapes her mouth and a smile forms there, both simple and full of mystery 'That’s beautiful.’ Their hands fit together for a few seconds, hers giving a light squeeze to his. 'I have one of those too.’ Gently, he shifts her palm so he can look at her scars that are now barely scabbed, and obviously freshly cut.

  
'You’ve cried again today, haven’t you.’ Jughead softly cups her face with his other hand and shifts it so he can see her eyes, now wet again. 'I’m fine, Jug. I have to go get ready for the party.’ Her smile is definitely not something he buys for one second, but he is far too weak to argue more since Betty’s reassuring smile feels like it’s burning into his skin and making his chest cave in. She quickly hops off the bed, taking all the magic of the moment with her, and she leaves, only turning her head around slightly in the doorway 'I think they would get along -Our bluebirds, I mean.’  
You have no idea, he thinks, and tries to calm his heart back into his chest and brace himself for the night before him.

  
__________

  
The party is both everything he expects and not. The part he’d expected was essentially the whole ordeal - he was currently navigating the crowds of people that showed up to cram up their apartment, which was far from a spacious luxurious condo, loud but not loud enough to cover the booming music that created a buzz in the heated air. Jughead could swear neither he nor Archie knew more than a third of those people, but that seemed irrelevant to his roommate when Veronica was beaming at the crowds of strangers that seemed to keep appearing. Jughead usually hung out on the balcony at these events, knowing he would get nagged at if he closed off in his room, and the balcony was where the music was the least loud. 

  
Not right now, though, because what he hadn’t anticipated was Betty getting hammered. He was pretty buzzed himself, chasing down two tequila shots the moment Betty walked out of her room in a pair of fitted jeans and a black lace tank top, wearing her hair down for the first time in ages, because she looked fucking breathtaking - all carefully-woven control, friend-related boundaries ran out the window and his brain started playing 'oh my god I want to kiss her’ on repeat. She had smiled at him, an appearance of confidence and carefully painted on makeup hiding her crying and her weariness, now just looking stunning, and Jughead had swallowed with a shocked expression and waved awkwardly. As the night went on, he tried to avoid hovering over her while also keeping an eye on her ( like he had a choice, she was all he could see in the whole room). 

  
Her blonde halo couldn’t be seen around the room for a while now, and so he had ventured (more like stumbled) into the kitchen to look for her. Everyone else was invested in a beer pong tournament, so that’s exactly where he found her, sitting alone on the counter, rearranging the fridge magnets by color. He snorted at the sight, amused by how quintessentially Betty she was, even drunk at a party. Also, so beautiful, even with her cheeks pink from the alcohol and her hair a bit messy, even so, the loveliest girl at the whole party (in the whole world). 'Hey, Juliet. What are you doing here?’

  
She was startled by his voice, losing her balance a bit when she tried hoping off the counter. His hands hugged her hips for a split second before she was back on her feet, enough for him to inhale her perfume and have it imprint itself , enough for his buzzed brain to stare at the perfect curve of her lips inches away from his own. 'Juggie. I was just, um, arranging the magnets I guess.’ His hands were now away but they were still facing each other, dangerously close. Betty didn’t seem to mind, leaning on the cabinet behind her, so Jughead stayed put, shamelessly staring at her.

  
It should be illegal, he thought, for her to say his name like that, like honey melting on her tongue, and look at him with those eyes, sad, bloodshot but awe-inspiring, a two-act play that left the whole audience on their feet, leaving him with no oxygen and no rational thoughts in his brain, a whirlwind of frenzied thoughts crashing into each other - blonde hair, gemstone-cut beauty shining out of every pore, hidden parts of her soul he wish he could explore, the beach on a sunny day kind of tranquility. 'I thought getting drunk would help. But now I’m even sadder, and you’ve been avoiding me all night, so I ended up here.’

  
She is adorable when she pouts, he thought, and immediately after said out loud too, realizing with horror only after- he had no mind to mouth filter when he was intoxicated. She stuck her tongue out at him and turned around, pouring herself what looked like a pina colada from a large punch bowl. Jughead wasn’t sure this was his queue to step in and remove her from where the alcohol was or not, but stepping in would imply making adult decision, which he was incapable of at the moment - Betty made him unable to think straight sometimes. The air felt velvety, like slow music was playing when it wasn’t, the sight of her simply standing there knocking him off his feet (and maybe, just maybe, it was also the shots). She silently offered him a sip and he accepted, making a grimace when the drink hit him, more rum than hardly any pineapple juice.

'Wow, so I guess Reggie mixed these didn’t he’  
'I don’t get why I’m so repulsive.’

Their voices overlapped and silence took over the room, piercing and vivid. Jughead expected this at some point, for Betty to go on a rant about what was bothering her, but it had never been like this, both of them drunk, and it had never been about her appearance, a subject Jughead was afraid to open his mouth about. Alcohol brought out of his memory all the favorite love poems he would never admit that he liked sober, not to mention the Shakespeare sonnets, just in time for her next question. 'I mean, what is it about me that makes every guy I meet run for the hills? Am I that ugly, Jughead?’ 

  
It took a few moments before the boy realised she was serious in her question, with the same kind of naivety kids and drunk people shared, drilling her welling eyes into him, mouth open in anticipation. 'Of course not, Betts.’ he murmured back, softly, sadly almost because he couldn’t describe what he actually felt. He took the cup from Betty’s hands and downed it, trying to numb his brain. 'Maybe it’s because I’m such a goody two shoes and all guys want is someone exciting, someone that has fire, or something like that. Someone like Veronica.’ She sniffled, wiping her cheeks and the mascara stains on them away. She stood up a bit taller, arranging her hair a little, and slightly leaned backwards so her collarbones and chest popped out more

'Am I unattractive?’

  
His mouth opened and closed for a few times, while he wracked his brain for an answer that wouldn’t come. What could he say to this? How could he describe the amount of time it took for him to control his thoughts around her? Or how much it took out of him to develop healthy friendship boundaries, only because he wanted her so much the air thinned around him, every time he saw the curve of her neck or her teeth biting down on her bottom lip. He couldn’t describe his urges to kiss that little patch of abdomen skin that peeked each time she stretched lazily in the morning after a sleepover, because he would end up sounding like a pathetic loser in love with his best friend (which, maybe he was). Betty mistook this pause as a no, and so her grimace only turned gloomier, downing the rest of the drink she had refilled. 'Okay, sorry I asked.’  
'No, Betts, that’s not it.’ He hurried to explain himself, because this outcome was the last thing he wished for.

'Fuck no, I just. I don’t know how to put into words exactly just how attractive you are. I don’t know why that asshole made the idiotic decision to break up with you, but that wasn’t it.’

  
This wasn’t good. This was mined territory, he knew it, letting his mouth go off rampant like that; there was a heat flourishing all over his body, and he wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or Betty, but it felt like the stars had all gathered in the pit of his stomach or in the glimmer that now colored her eyes. She inched a bit closer, and whispered like a child sharing a secret. 'Jug, please do me a favor without judging me.’ His eyebrows grimaced in a silent question, the words  'Yes, anything, I’d do anything for you.’ curling on the tip of his tongue, not quite brave enough to surface.  
'Kiss me.’ she whispered, leaving Jughead absolutely blank for the first time that night, nothing but the loud voice in the background and a stunned 'Betty, we can’t..’ leaving his lips, voice cracking like thunder. Her rush to cover his protests was instant 'It won’t mean anything, I swear. I just want to not feel like this anymore, unappealing and gross and not even worth kissing properly, and since I trust you the most and you said I’m not so ugly, I thought.. please, don’t make me go on and sound even more pathetic. Just this once.’  
It took only a split second, where time stood still and everything in him yelled in a chaos of voices to not do it, explaining how it would ruin everything, being collected and pragmatic. But he grew almost terrified how hungry his heart had roared, how his fogged self could only feel a gigantic pull towards the girl standing before him, wanting, asking to be kissed.

'Yeah, okay.’

  
Their hands quickly found their place as soon as Jughead stepped closer, slightly pressing her against the counter, mouths colliding almost instantly. He felt shivers throughout his entire body the instant her body melted into him, electricity coursing through his veins. Her hands tangling in his hair, her mouth pliant and warm under him, slightly parted so he could slowly taste how sweet she was, both of them chasing the pineapple taste off each other. It felt new and exciting yet practiced, a compilation of all of Jughead’s daydreams but real, tangible, incredible. It was like every poem he’d ever read coming to life in a wordless firework exploding itself into reality, the inspiration of thousands of love songs blooming quickly into his chest with each second. His hands enveloped her waist, burning through the flimsy material of the shirt, pulling her even closer.

  
All he could see behind his eyes were stars, knowing this would be exactly what would occupy his mind for a long time after it ended. There was fire licking up his core, begging for more, his hands traveling to the top of her thighs so he could help her hop on the counter. Betty seemed to agree with this, kissing back with just as much enthusiasm, tangling her legs around him, her back hitting the cabinet with a soft thud. Their hands now roamed everywhere, wanting to feel more-The rhythm had suddenly changed from sweet and innocent to thunder and craving more, a mess of lips and tongues and teeth that brought within himself a wish to carry her to his room, a thought he had never allowed himself quite this explicitly. The girl bit his bottom lip and then licked it gently to soothe it, making Jughead almost slip out a moan.

  
This realization made him figure out he would only want more if they continued - he had to stop, and right now. He drew back disappointed from her lips to look at her expression, searching for any regret or anger - there was none, to his surprise, maybe even a bit of disappointment , a delicious pout of her now slightly swollen lips; she looked even more beautiful, actually looked like she had been properly kissed, and pride rose in his chest knowing he was the one who made Betty Cooper look dazzled like that. Both of their breaths were now heavier, pupils blown out wide, and Jughead looked at her lips, seeing them completely different now that he knew how they felt under his, knowing deep inside this would change everything, most probably dooming them forever.

  
'Was that what you had in mind?’


	2. I think I made you up inside my head

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hei guys. Thank you soso much to everyone that left kudos, reblogged or liked on tumblr, and especially to the people who commented, you are my lifeblood and everytime I checked the work and saw another one I legit made inhumane noises. This is turning out to be a bit longer than I expected, so it will probably take me more than chapters to wrap it up, but I hope you're alright with that.  
> With that said, let the fluff ensue.  
> The poems mentioned are Mad girl's love song by Sylvia Plath and Sonnet 17 by Pablo Neruda  
> also,more poetry to come in the future because I'm hopeless  
> please leave me any opinion, likes,dislikes, even poetry suggestions or anything else in the comments, and come talk to me on tumblr, I'm @stydiaandthejeep .Enjoy  
> p.s a scene of this chapter is partially inspired by a otp prompt I saw on tumblr.

It is already close to 10 am when Jughead opens his eyes and groans at the amount of light infiltrating his room at the moment. He acknowledges the throbbing pain in his temples and the slight nausea as the price his body would have to pay for participating in a bit (a lot) of social drinking the previous night. It takes a lot of effort for his mind to win the battle over his body and actually drag himself out of bed, but when it conquers, it happens because the promise of coffee brings a spark of joy to his miserable self. He trudges to the kitchen,without bothering to put on a shirt, his brain already a mess of all the reading he has to catch up on, the bills he has to pay and the cleaning of the aftermath he'd probably have to participate in. He hums an old Wombats song and tries to figure where the verse 'I think I made you up inside my head' is from.

  
He walks into the kitchen and runs into Betty,who seems to be in a long tshirt and nothing else but slippers, and feels himself dipping into the void as panic starts dripping into his veins instead of blood - he had forgotten the crucial part of last night. His brain had spared him a few moments of tranquility, but the sight of the blonde had knocked him into reality, making it difficult for him to hide his feelings by containing his facial expression. His first instinct is to run - run the hell away as soon as possible, come up with something, anything, about why he'd accepted last night (why he didn't regret it,was sure he'd obsess over it,wanted more of it even), prepare a speech, write a song (God,anything but a poem), maybe drink some coffee first. The guilt,confusion and frustration spun into him like a tsunami, all at once, too late for him to run.

Betty spun around, and for a milisecond, he could see her share the same shocked expression (and linger a bit too long on his torso,too) - quick enough for him to think he was imagining things, because next thing he knew, Betty was handing him a mug with giraffes on it and smiling 'Morning, are you hungover too?' at him.

  
He mumbled something resembling 'Yes,thank you' in her direction and sat himself at the bar, making an inhuman effort to A)not vomit B) not stare at Betty as she was happily making waffles and humming (plus, ignore and not be creepy about the fact that her gorgeous, lean legs were on display). The last thing he remembered was the two of them giggling like preschoolers after making out in the kitchen, joining the others at beerpong, regrettably doing more shots, and after that, it was pretty much blank space in his memory.

  
'You're very endearing when you're half-asleep.' she spoke, making Jughead sneak a look in her direction - Betty seemed pretty joyful, considering her last few days of moping around and the hungover she also was nursing. There was a high chance last night events had been erased by the obscene amount of alcohol in her system (more than he had,actually); maybe she wasn't keen on even mentioning the events at all - which fucking sucked, although it was the sane,rational solution, because Jughead could remember the way she had given in to him the moment he leaped forward to kiss her, like she had been waiting for it for months. If he closed his eyes the inside of his eyelids felt painted on with the image of him pulling her closer by the waist, a fistful of blonde hair being tangled into his fingers.

  
It hadn't meant anything - that hurt the most, a swirl of saddness, frustration, guilt pooling in the pit of his stomach, along with nausea. She had been very specific about it not meaning anything, being a one time thing. A favor between friends. 'Is everything okay?' Betty asked, sitting on a stool across the bar after putting a plate of waffles in front of him, pouring herself more coffee. He looked at her, his eyes clinging for a second on her lips. He didn't have to imagine kissing them, he knew very well how it felt.  
He could already feel this favor would kill him.'Yes, my head is just in a lot of pain.'

He hesitated before continuing through a mouthful of waffles. 'Are you.. okay?I mean,um,in general.Because of last night.'

  
This was the best way he knew how to let her bring up the subject, if she desired to do so - testing if she even remembered, while at the same time giving her the liberty to make it obsolete if she wanted to let it go. He avoided looking at her, afraid that eye contact would give away the internal turmoil he was hiding, but also because he just couldn't look at her without a continuous loop of her biting his bottom lip and almost drawing blood playing in his head. He itching to get a piece of paper and search for appropriate words to paint this picture - pomegranate juice ,lavender honey and sunlit metaphors chasing each other in his imagination like children.

  
'I'm better, last night really helped getting my mind off.' The tone of her voice was suspiciously neutral, which made Jughead look up from his plate to check if he was right.She was resting her face in her palms, staring directly at him, like she was looking for the opportunity to ask him something. Her bottom lip was being nibbled on by her front teeth, and Jughead knew her well enough to acknowledge this meant she was nervous. Also, most likely the actual cause of his premature death.

'No more Aaron. I actually have a date tonight.'

  
A small smile bloomed on her face, one he suspected was a bit apologetic; suddenly it became too much for him, filling him to the brim- from the stress his workload was causing him, the reoccurring melancholia crises, being in love and spending every bit of energy he had to suppress this, because she meant more than ruining them over unrequited feelings, or kissing her in his own kitchen and Betty not remembering the next day. He stood up briskly, his voice a bit too loud and too enthusiastic in his reply

' Great,awesome then.Thanks for the waffles.'

  
And with that he was gone, a glimpe of her confused expression still present as he walked away and shut the door behind his bedroom. Sitting down at his desk, he opened his notebook and decided the best way to deal with this was to simply forget it ever happened,too, and dive into schoolwork.As he flipped to the newest lecture, he let out a groan.The verse he'd woken up with was scribbled on the edge of it, a bit of Plath he'd heard someone mention, that now felt like a ghost determined to haunt him.   
"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead; I lift my lids and all is born again. (I think I made you up inside my head.)"

_____  
Jughead spends most of his day closed off in his room, writing away at his little desk, avoiding adventuring out at any cost, the memory of him kissing his best friend way too fresh in his head for it to not sting if he'd seen Betty. The possibility was very frail - she was,most likely, back at her place, getting ready for her date, already forgetting (or not even remembering) the previous night. That particular image stirred something in him - Jughead cursed under his breath and threw his notebook across his bed, letting out a frustrated groan.He hated himself like this - a closer introspection revealed that this was the first time Betty had messed with his brain so crudely, without it even being her fault. There had been times, especially when they were younger and he, more naive, where he had experienced the kind of entitled frustration one feels when the person they like doesn't like them back. But it was never like this - it wasn't just a hue of sadness. He knew he had to get out, otherwise risking driving himself mad with his circling thoughts .Despite his hangover,maybe what he needed was a drink.Or another girl to obsess about.

  
He decided to shoot off a text to Archie,just to make sure outside was safe territory. 'Is Betty still here?' When his roomate barged into his room minutes later, Jughead should have expected this was exactly the kind of outcome he would get. 'Dude, what is up with you two.Betty acted all jumpy this morning,too.'  
'She did?' Jughead asked, in disbelief, almost enthusiastically. 'Yeah, after she made those sick waffles, she just hurried out the door immediately, even though me and Ron thought we could all hang out.' Archie added, sitting down on Jughead bed. His brows knitted together in a concerned manner 'Did you two have a fight last night or something?'

  
Relax, Jughead thought to himself. It was either a coincidence, or she just had to be somewhere. His brain wouldn't have it though - what if she remembered?What if she ran off because she hates you now, because she's dissapointed in you,because she's..  
'Earth to Jughead. You are seriously freaking me out,Jug.' Archie snapped his fingers, breaking him out of his downward spiraling into overthinking. He sat next to him and smiled bitterly, deciding that if he was ever going to tell this mess to anyone, it was probably Archie.

  
'Well, let's just say Betty asked me to.. do her a favor. And I accepted, which I think she hates me for, because we were both drunk but she was drunker than me, and now I'm actually terrified that I ruined everything.' Archie looked at him with apprehension, not keen on letting Jughead get away with that little. ' We kissed, Archie.That was the favor.But it didn't mean anything, she warned me it wouldn't.'

  
His friend's face lit up like a Christmas tree, and Jughead rolled his eyes at his childish enthusiasm. Archie patted him on the back, like a frat boy in a teenage movie pats his buddy on the back for getting the girl. 'Congratulations,dude, I knew it would happen at some point.' His eyes flash with child-like excitement while Jughead prepares to break his friend's heart at a much more minuscule scale than what he'd experienced. However, he knew what he currently needed - the boy decided this was the moment he'd inevitably start eating his feelings - he figured his kitchen was a good place to start.

  
'No, Archie,you don't understand. We were just buzzed and she was just lonely.She told me it was meaningless.' Jughead added from across the bar a bit later, where he was drowning his sorrow in an enormous bowl of cereal. 'Bullshit' Archie replied, an amused smile playing on his lips. 'I don't care how drunk you were. That is exactly what someone does when they want to kiss the other person but are too afraid to admit their feelings.' - then he went right back to spreading peanut butter on his toast, as if he hadn't just uprooted Jughead's entire thesis he was standing on. This theory was quick to leave him, though, because he would have sensed anything more than friendship from Betty. After all, he had been in love with her for ages. 'Yeah, I don't think so.'  
'You'll see.' Archie winked at him, making Jughead laugh, reminding him he was lucky he had someone like Archie to bring light to this, him probably blowing things out of proportion . 'Wanna play video games?'

  
Jughead agreed, spending the rest of the day with the precise goal of not thinking of Betty, her body, their kiss, what it meant for their friendship, the poem he'd wrote that morning with her smile looping in his head, the potential doom of their relationship, and other fun stuff alike those. He occupied his time with video games until Archie had to go to an evening class, only then realizing that it had gotten dark around them. Alongside that came the afterthought that Betty was probably at her date right now, looking beautiful in the candlelight of a fancy restaurant, sharing dessert with a stranger who'd get to feel her lips pressed against his before saying goodnight. Jughead hated himself for that - both for not being to abstain from it, but also for how fervently he wanted that for himself, wanted to take her out and treat her like the wonder that she was. 

His phone went off on the other side of the couch, leaving him to debate if leaving his little cocoon of misery was a price he'd be willing to pay. Deciding he was being ridiculous and over-dramatic, also pretty pathetic since he was only wearing once sock for some reason and had consumed his own weight in doritos that day, he pushed himself to go get it.

  
'I've been sitting alone at a table at a restaurant way too fancy for me for almost half an hour and the waiter keeps coming over to ask if I'm ready to order what do I do'

His heart spikes, deciding it was a very good idea to get up. He imagines Betty, sitting there,all dolled up, alone, probably staring at the dinner rolls in front of her, red with embarrassment, her eyes empty and sad. He presses the green button and dials her, and although he expects it, the sound of her voice, charged with uncried tears, hits him right in the gut. 'Hei,Betts'

  
'Across from me there's a table full of girls from one of my classes and I'm pretty sure they're all laughing at me for being stood up because they keep staring and pointing and giggling and this is high school all over again,Jug.' she whispers, all in one breath, and Jughead knows, knows that her hands are red with blood prickling from her cuts under the table. And just like that, he decides what he'd already been debating in his head. 'Okay, text me the address and just hold on for a little longer.'

________  
It takes Jughead about twenty more minutes to get to the location she'd sent him. It would have been less if he hadn't decided to change into a (hopefully clean enough) shirt and pick up the tulips Veronica had left on their kitchen counter.Later, while he was driving and trying to drown out the anxious monologue projecting into his head about this decision not helping with the whole boundaries-thing, he realized that he had taken the flowers and the vase too in his nervous frenzy. Leaving the vase behind, he grabbed the flowers and slightly adjusted his shirt, looking for Betty among the candle lit tables set on the patio of the restaurant. First, his eyes found the table she had probably mentioned, a bunch of tipsy girls that were indeed sneaking looks at his friend and cackling obnoxiously right after. Then, he spots her,awkwardly analyzing her glass of water like it's the most interesting thing - Jughead wonders what kind of idiotic discourse was behind the decision that guy made - because she is spring blooming into itself in the form a petite girl, so delicate Jughead is afraid to touch her yet so strong he'd sometimes make him tremble.

  
He makes sure to pass right by the loud table, confidently striding towards hers, and greeting her in the loudest voice he deemed appropriate for a public setting

'Hey babe, I'm sorry I'm so late.These are for you.'

  
It had been all worth it. Screw the traffic, and his nerves, and the boundaries. The way Betty's face lit up with pure joy (and a little confusion) at the sight of him, standing in front of her, holding a bucket of flowers she surely recognized from his place, calling her babe and not wearing his hat for her, it was all worth it - he grinned in return and winked at her, silently asking for her to play along. 'It's okay,thank you, um,honey.' She stumbled, smiling mischievously, if a bit dazzled.

  
Casually, he begins studying the menu, pulling a serious grimace that he knows will make her laugh. When he looks up her eyes are already there, looking right back at him. Smiling, slightly bitting her lower lip - killing him in the softest, sweetest way he's ever known. In the dim lightning, against the backdrop of the city lights, she looks like a flickering flame that has somehow found its way into his chest.'What?' he asks, allowing himself exactly two seconds to stare at her lips and resisting an urge to lick his own because he wants last night to happen all over again, even if it turns out to be a mistake.

  
The two turn into five seconds,anyway.'Thank you so much,Jug. You saved my ass tonight.' is all she can say, her voice barely audible. He wants to reply how she had saved him from himself plenty of times, but figures this would not be appropriate dinner conversation. 'Yeah, don't worry about it. What I am worried about are these prices, though, Betts.' There's a tinge of amusement coloring his voice, trying his best to lighten up the mood and avoid asking the question they both knew he was dying to ask ( for example - what exactly happened, who was this guys that stood her up)

  
'What about we act like proper adults: run while the waiter isn't looking, find a drive through that's near and then have fries and milkshakes on the hood of your car.' Her suggestion is paired with a small grin and he -he is so gone for her and absolutely hopeless. 'Betty Cooper, you are the woman of my dreams.' It's meant as a joke but only Jughead knows how true it is, deep inside - it's all he can think about as he sprints alongside the blonde and into his car, both of them giggling like preschoolers that had just set up a prank, Betty with a bouquet of flowers in her hand, Jughead with his heart on his sleeve.

  
He must admit that the image they were painting was probably pretty silly. A girl, in a peachy dress with her heels discarded on the ground, drinking a colorful milkshake on the hood of a car in a burger kind parking lot, and a boy in a blue dress shirt sitting right next to her, munching on fries, both of them looking up and pretending the light of the city would allow them to see actual stars. She throws her head back laughing at a stupid joke he'd made about the origin of the word 'milkshake', her golden hair falling in waves on the skin of her back - something thick and sweet like honey glides down his chest at the sight of her, completely natural and raw, seeing the tension in her shoulders melt off slowly.

  
Neither of them mention the previous night, or the reason why Betty had texted him. After they finish eating they both lay on his car and point out to random portions of the sky, inventing names for invisible constellations - and when Betty twirls her fingers around his and begins to demonstrate the exact image she'd wanted to convey, he doesn't hear what she's explaining for one second, the booming in his chest too loud and the shared warmth of their hands too distracting.They are laying so close the sides of their bodies are touching completly, the white noise of the city lulling above them- he falls silent for a while, content of just existing near Betty, but he notices her slightly tilting her head, enough so that she can sneak a glance at him. His eyes turn to stare back at her, a tinge of confusion in his tone and a small smile appearing in the corner of his mouth

'What is it, Cooper?  
'I was miserable at the beginning of the night but now, I'm kind of glad it didn't turn out like I expected it.' She murmurs, and Jughead thinks about how the hazy atmosphere around them is exactly one that calls for whispering voices, too soft to be taken apart by harsh tones.Much like the two of them. 

  
Noticing the chilly breeze that began raising goosebumps on their shoulders, he smiles at her again and gently grabs her hand. 'I am,too. Now,let's go home.'

_____  
After the drive spent in comfortable-silence,they walk the last few steps and stop in front of Betty's building. It all looks terribly cliche, and from the outside, they paint the perfect end of a typical date - she is wearing his jacket on her shoulders, they are at a safe distance from each other, yet their eyes are glued on the other person and Jughead really, really wants to kiss her. It's all like a strong liquor traveling straight to his nervous system - the softness in Betty's eyes, the night falling over them in inky hues, this indescribable void in his chest that calls for him to put his thoughts into coherent words and give them to her, even with the risk of rejection.

  
'I know that lately, the universe has been kind of tough with you' he begins, and, in an act of braveness, his impulse is to grab her hand gently and step just a tiny bit closer.'But I just need you to know,Betty.' He hesitates, long enough for her to whisper a barely audible 'What?', and for him to take a good look at her, and decide. She is absolutely everything he wants, but this- this is exactly the problem. The reverse side is that selfishly, he doesn't want to lose her precisely because of this. There is a nuance in her eyes that gives off the emotional turmoil of the past couple of weeks - and he knows her well enough to be aware of how right now, their relationship is one of the few stable things she has, one of the few things she can actually put her trust in.

  
His feelings would have to wait.

  
'I'm really lucky to have you.It's an honor to get to be your friend.' he utters, observing Betty's eyes changing inexplicably into a sort of emotion he couldn't pinpoint. What he claimed isn't false, not one bit - but right now, more than ever, it feels incomplete, and the rest of his words seem to fly directly from his notebook pages and roll under his tongue, varying from promises to treat her infinitely better than all the assholes who'd broke her heart, to simply cutting to the chase and grabbing her waist and kissing her right there. He settles on gently kissing her forehead, his lips lingering a second too long on her skin. 'I'm really lucky to have a friend like you too, Jug.' she replies, quietly, almost too much so.  
That had always been enough and more than he deserved,really, but somehow, as he walks away from her and back to his car, his heart is heavy with a kind of absence he hadn't felt before.

_______  
Later that evening, he walks into his apartment and finds Archie on their couch, watching old Grey's anatomy reruns (a secret Jughead had sworn to take to his grave), so he plops down next to him with a scowl. The redhead throws him a sympathetic look, which tells Jughead that Betty must have talked with Veronica and the word had traveled. 'It was really nice of you, bro.' Archie offers, and the boy huffs. 'Yeah, well, she's my friend.' He turns his attention to the TV, but soon notices Archie isn't doing the same thing.  
His friend's eyebrows knit into a serious expression, suddenly handing him a piece of paper Jughead recognizes from one of his notebooks. 'I didn't mean to snoop, I swear, but you left this on the coffee table when you rushed to get to Betty.'

  
His eyes scan the page and immediately folds it up after-knowing it's too late and that Archie has probably read it already, and that being embarrassed about it now would be futile. However, the other boy was far from ready to mock him - he looked worried, which was very unlike him. In all the years they had been friends, Jughead had rarely witnessed Archie concerned enough about something to offer advice or act parental. Something in his eyes right now told him this was one of those rare occasion.  
' Dude, I'm sorry. I didn't know it was like that. I just thought you still had a bit of a crush on her from highschool.' Jughead could see his point - he folds the paper back again and realizes his words are far from reminiscent of a fleeting crush (because they aren't).

  
'I don’t love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz,   
or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:   
I love you as one loves certain obscure things,   
secretly, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that doesn’t bloom but carries   
the light of those flowers, hidden, within itself,   
and thanks to your love the tight aroma that arose   
from the earth lives dimly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,   
I love you directly without problems or pride:  
I love you like this because I don’t know any other way to love,  
except in this form in which I am not nor are you,   
so close that your hand upon my chest is mine,   
so close that your eyes close with my dreams.'

  
After a beat of silence, Archie carefully speaks again 'For what it's worth, I thought it was a really good poem.' Jughead doesn't know what to do with himself - he smiles bitterly in Archie's direction and looks down, his face dropping like a mask and into a sombre expression.There truly was no problem nor pride to his feelings.

  
There simply wasn't enough of them, not where his ended and hers began.


	3. They don't have to

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! Life took over so the time between uploads was waaay longer than I wanted it to, but hopefully it was worth it. It's going to be either one or two more chapters. Thank you everyone who commented and left kudos and someone even bookmarked, thats amazing.Thank you once again my amazing beta for getting this done so quickly <3  
> ! I suggest playing the song 'Ice cream' by The Wombats when you read the second half of the chapter, which I refrenced lyrics from (they are in bold) , it's from their new album and it made me think of my Jughead and Betty and yeah. The poem I refrenced is by e.e cummings but I have no idea what it's called,saddly  
> happy reading.

Jughead would like to live in this feeling right here, with Betty, for the remaining days of his life - the world feels silky around him and everything hold a tinge of gold in it, the softness of the early morning falls around them - their limbs are tangled up in each other underneath the sheets, so much so that he has no idea where one begins and the other ends. He looks down and sees Betty’s features peacefully relaxing in a deep sleep, and he smiles - even in her sleep, her hand is tightly secured around his middle, and her head on his chest rises and falls slowly with his breath. The windows are open wide and a breeze brushes over them - everything is perfect in its quietness, and Jughead kisses the soft skin of her forehead. This makes her shift a little and pull him even closer to her body - so he can almost feel his chest bursting out of its seams with light and just how much he loves her right then.

  
And then he wakes up.Jughead is startled out of his sleep by the buzzing sound of his alarm going off. He looks around his room and finds that he is alone there - his heart falls back into his chest with a soft thud of disappointment. The dream had felt so real - he could almost swear his sheets smelled like the lavender lotion Betty always used. The imprint of her skin was ever-so present on his lips, the golden shades of his make-beliefs so poignant in his head even as he splashed cold water on his face and started his day.

Ever since their kiss, a gate Jughead never knew existed sprung open in his soul and like wild, untamed animals, intense and debilitating feelings for Betty started running in a frenzy that stripped Jughead of any capacity for boundaries. He knew very well she was the same, and that nothing had changed for her, that it had meant nothing. The problem was getting his heart to listen to reason. It had been a week since their ‘date’, and although they had texted here and there, Jughead had kept his distance from his friend. He ardently hoped this was the solution - diving head first into his schoolwork, combined with a lack of her presence around him.

He was wrong. He knew being in love was the most wonderful thing that could have happened to him as a writer, more so as a aspiring poet. Yet, this definitely wasn’t the well of fortune he had desired; he had always daydreamed of falling in love like in the movies, a great love that would strike him like lighting in his youth and that, if it was to end, it would at least feed him heartbreak to paint with his words. Sitting down at his desk with his coffee, Jughead opened the document on his laptop where he transcribed what little writing he deemed average enough to send to the University paper. He sighed because this was the first time in months he saw it fill up this quickly. Most of them were love poems and essays.

He hated himself sometimes, he really did.

He hated how every poem he came across became about her, how this immense potential had been boiling in his heart ever since they were stupid teenagers and her blonde ponytail swung around the school cafeteria, always catching his eye. He hated how he zoned out sometimes in class, chewing on his pen and constructing play-card castles in his imagination: how he’d tell her, and she’d tear up, and they would kiss - as if the word spun around like a carousel in an amusement park, always precise. He hated how his pulse would spike crazy each time his phone would light up with a text from her - it was usually a simple ‘good morning’ followed by a smiley face, or a 'have a good day’. Lately, he had been more and more simplistic in his replies, often coming across as disinterested. This made him feel guilty, but he had to try. He had to build protective walls around him yet again, and this was the only way he knew how. He also hated knowing he was probably hurting her for no reason.

Oh, but he loved her.

His phone buzzed at that exact moment, making him jump in his seat - the universe was truly cruel sometimes. He was surprised to see more than a few words appear under her name this time - ’ Veronica is making us all go out this Friday and I just wanted you to know that if I’m dragged to this thing, there is no way you are saying no.’Jughead imagined the slightly disgruntled expression she must have had on her face as she composed this text, his heart filling with fondness, blooming a smile on his lips. His reply was quick to come. ’ And what exactly will I earn from all this, Cooper’A few minutes went by before she replied, in which Jughead pretended to skim through an E.E Cumming anthology when in reality, he had checked his messaged three times in a row.

_it is so long since my heart has been with yours_

_shut by our mingling arms through_

_a darkness where new ligts begin and_

_increase,_

_since your mind has walked into_

_my kiss as a stranger_

_into the streets and colours of a town-_

_I have perhaps forgotten_

A bit of writing took over his attention, and as he read it, he began looking for a post it so he could save it for reference, pretending he was interested in it solely for writing purposes, not because it rose something in him similar to the warmth he felt when he thought of her. Just as he was sticking the post it with the words on his wall, his phone made a noise.

'My eternal love and gratitude, Jones.’ His phone clinked again. ’ You can’t tell me that’s not something you want.’ His eyebrows shot up in surprise and he figured he should at least wait two seconds before he replied, as if it hadn’t been already too late not to seem desperate. 'I already have all those, what else do you have to offer.’

Where they flirting? Was Betty Cooper flirting with him? Or had a sudden fever hit him and made him believe friendly banter was something more than what it was? Whatever it had been, his smile grew wider and wider, and he could tell he looked stupid - caring about that was a whole other story in itself. ’ Depends on how open you are about the idea of sexual favours as a form of currency’ His eyes had never been opened wider than in that moment, reading and re-reading the text five times to check that this was indeed Betty texting him and not someone else. Just like in cartoons, his mouth was slightly open too

'Kidding. Are milkshakes okay?’

Jughead was still gathering his jaw from the floor as he quickly replied with an 'Awesome, I’ll be there.’ and turned his phone to silent. If any of his friends had showed him that exact exchange between them and someone else, Jughead’s money would be on the fact that it was, without a doubt, flirting, or something resembling flirting. He would have said the other person was interested, and probably playing coy. But this…this was Betty. In this universe, Betty was his sensational best friend who had the bad habit of picking the worst guys to date.

A word document stood open, blank, on the laptop in front of him. Mocking him.

_a ribbon of lilies and sun d u s t tangles in my hair and I know_

_while roaming the empty streets of my subconscious_

_a breeze of warm air_

_I must have stumbled into her_

_again._

His fingers fly quickly over the keyboard, typing without a second thought about it - he realizes what he’s doing and he stops to re-read. He almost wants to roll his eyes at himself, especially because this imagery was precisely right, not just a poetic metaphor used for artistic purposes - Jughead could easily tell that if his own mind would take shape into a small town cross with winding roads, a walk through it, ever since their kiss, would definitely imply bumping into various different versions of Betty - sleepy, sun kissed in the morning in perfect white t-shirts that revealed milky skin, sometimes determined, Betty, caffeine-buzzed wearing a tight pony in a pink scrunchie, or slightly stumbling, slightly tipsy Betty, cherry lipstick on, golden hair down, barriers likewise. And he would smile helpless all the same to each and every single one, equally gone for all of them.

Jughead sighs and closes his laptop. He decides Friday is the day he puts an end to it.

__

Of course, later that Friday, Jughead indulges Betty and joins the three of them to the crowded bar Veronica had picked - Jughead had zero to none experience with places like this, but for the sake of his friends and more so his mental sanity, he had put on a nice pair of jeans and left his beanie at home (after Veronica insisting three times), determined this was the night Betty became his best friend again in the most platonic sense of the word. He had muttered a friendly but plain 'Hello’ upon seeing her, no innuendo or snarky comment attached to it, no lingering look, and went right back to joining Archie in making fun of the pretentious way the cocktails on the menu were named. He blatantly ignored her slightly disappointed grimace or how amazing she looked in a v-cut dress Jughead would have never imagined her in. His goal wasn’t to be an asshole to his friend or to hurt her - it was just regain some sense of normalcy in their dynamic, at least on his end. He quickly gathered Veronica had similar ideas, because the instant the four of them sat down, the brunette started talking about all the guys that were 'just perfect’ for Betty and suggesting people the blonde should go and introduce herself to.

While the girls had gone and quickly disappeared into a mass of people, Betty throwing him a 'please help’ kind of glance right before being dragged away enthusiastically by Veronica, Jughead smiled sympathetically back but did nothing to snatch Betty out of her enthusiastic friend’s arms. He decided to spend most of his time glued to the bar, making easy conversation with Archie. As the night went on Jughead couldn’t help but observe two things, one that amused him and one that most definitely irritated him. First, he was obviously harnessing some attention from the girls that were also leaning against the bar and chatting over fruity cocktails. He had caught several of them gawking him from under batting eyelashes, a group of them nudging their obviously embarrassed friend to come up to him and then giggling when he had noticed them. This came with endless teasing from Archie’s side - he had no idea how to react to this, because living in a bubble where Betty was the only girl around that presented any interest was pretty debilitating in that sense.

Maybe meeting someone would be… nice? His heart spiked in protest to that thought - a bright flash of Betty just a few hours ago, with an adorable but disappointed pout at him not moving a finger to stop Veronica, making him dizzy with how she looked in that dress.

Just as that thought travelled on a whim in his mind, the girl in question, a brunette with impressingly long hair, walked up to him while a whole audience of girls stared at them. She was obviously blushing and she kept her arms crossed over her chest, every sign indicated she was doing this against her will. That made Jughead smile, because he knew how she felt very well, and his grin obviously made her relax because a small smile also appeared on her face.

'

Hey, I’m sorry, I know this is really weird, but would you pretend to talk to me for a few minutes so I can get my friends off my back? They’ve been pressuring me to do this for an hour and I’m going to go back to them after and pretend to be sad about how you’re actually married really young or gay, so this won’t take long.’

When she finished speaking, all spewed off in a one long breath, Jughead just laughed and then mimicked an offended expression, hand over his heart. ’ Of course, but… you would have to pretend to be sad?’ The girl obviously was relieved at his reply, leaning on the bar next to him, facing out the crowd. 'Thank you. Most guys would be assholes about this. I’m Toni, by the way.’

'Jughead’ He introduced himself back and clinked his beer against the glass Toni was holding, which seemed to contain rum and coke. 'So, Jughead, you’re obviously equally as uncomfortable as I am usually in bars, what are you doing here?’

'I’m, uh, with’ His train of thought completely vanished because his eyes had caught sight of the second thing he had been observing all night. Betty was somewhere across the room, chatting with a boy Jughead had never seen before, one that looked like the exact opposite of him (blonde, no bags under his eyes, properly dressed) - she was smiling how she always did when she was engaged in a discussion that sparked her interest and, well, his hand was slightly touching her arm. Nothing too extreme, but enough details to this view for Jughead to get a dry mouth and a violent spike in his side of what no doubt was jealousy, flashing through him. He remembered he was probably being rude to Toni, so he cleared his throat and tried to regain composure.

’ Sorry, I meant to say I’m with my friends. They dragged me here.’

He instantly knew by her expression that Toni had followed his look to where Betty was standing, and therefore she now had a knowing smile on her lips, amusement mixed with sympathy. 'Ah, I see. I’m going to take a wild guess and assume blondie over there is more than just a friend to you, but not vice versa.’

'You are very observant.’ was all Jughead could reply, softly, sad eyes looking at the floor -there was no point in denying what were obvious facts to a person he’d met minutes ago. ’ But our friendship is too important for me to ruin it over that.’ He didn’t know if he was saying this to explain it to Tony or to hear the words out loud and explain it to himself, regardless of that, they still hurt - combined with the sight in front of him (the guy was now saying something into Betty’s ear, and Jughead wondered if the music was so loud that he couldn’t just speak and keep his freaking distance from her). ’ I don’t know the whole story, but just from how you look at her I’d say you should take into consideration the possibility of you ruining yourself over this.’

Jughead smiled bitterly, storing that bit of wisdom away for later, and continued chatting easily to Tony, who, after introducing herself to Archie, made a nice addition to their weirdo group. She also helped in keeping female attention away from both Jughead and Archie. He discovered she was quite a nice person and reckoned that in different circumstances, if he hadn’t had the worst luck of all time in terms of who his heart decided to fall in love with, he would have been interested in her.

Suddenly, Veronica walked up to them hastily and grabbed Jughead’s arm, talking in a distressed voice Jughead rarely hears her use. 'Quick, help me get rid of the guy Betty’s talking to - go dance with her or something.’

'Weren’t you the one that’s been playing match making for her all night?’ Jughead took his arm back and snarked quickly at her, obviously annoyed Veronica was asking favours after she herself had planned this whole night as a 'get Betty a date’ occasion.

'I was, and when I introduced her to this seemingly harmless individual I had the feeling I knew him from somewhere, but I only now remembered where from.’ Veronica threw the three of them a worried look before whispering towards Jughead. 'He used to date one of my friends from high school. He was an abusive asshole who played nice in public but in reality always manipulated and yelled at her. I don’t know if he ever got physical but I…’

Jughead wasn’t there to hear the end of her sentence. He got up and quickly made his way through the crowd, livid with anger towards Veronica and gathering his hands into fists unconsciously, although he was aware there was no need to cause a scene and all he needed to do was to create a distraction or simply get Betty away from his attention. Without paying even a look to the guy, Jughead posted himself in front of his friend and gently grabbed her hand, pulling her towards the centre of the dance floor ’ Betty, hey, I love this song, come dance.’ and after, nonchalantly, towards the shocked expression of the guy 'Sorry, I’m going to kidnap her for a moment’

That was it, before they were thrown into the mass of people, colorful lights flashing in their eyes, music ringing louder than before. Involuntarily, their bodies starting swaying to the rhythm along with the others, and Jughead laid an arm on her waist, stepping closer so now their bodies were inches from touching, but still at a distance- it was all a bit dizzying, especially her puzzled expression and the stars in her eyes. 'You know, if you wanted to dance with me, there were other ways to tell me.’ She had to shout into his ear in order to get across, and so her lips slightly touched his skin in the turning of their bodies along with the music.

_**You keep me wanting more** _

_**Everything gets blurry, am I right where you want me?** _

_**Melting like an ice cream in the sun** _

This made Jughead skip a beat before explaining himself and this impromptu decision to dance (which both of them knew was very unlike him). She had been silent for a moment, processing the information, but a smile quickly found its place on her lips after, and she had leant into him once again. ’ Thank you, Juggie.’ If it hadn’t been for the colorful lights around them, she could have easily seen his cheeks slightly bloom with color, a disco ball swinging behind his eyelids too, mostly because he was dancing with the most beautiful girl in the room.

'As much as I appreciate what you’re doing, this isn’t a middle school dance, you know.’

Her expression was mischievous and Jughead knew she was obviously teasing him about the staggering difference between them and the rest of the people on the dance floor, the two of them at a noticeable distance from each other. This was all he needed to hear - his right hand wrapped around her middle and pulled her towards him, so close that their lips were now at a dangerous distance from each other, continuing to dance along to the chorus of a song he’d use to belt out to alone in his room with a secret thought of a certain blonde girl in his head, a girl that was now dancing against him to it, like they were everything but platonic friends.

**_You keep me wanting more_ **

**_Everything gets blurry, am I right where you want me?_ **  
**_Melting like an ice cream in the sun_ **  
**_He’s low and she’s high, but I take it offline_ **  
**_Is there really such a thing as too much fun?_ **  
**_An ice cream in the sun_ **

  
Everything felt like whirlwind that was swiftly bring him closer to doing something stupid, like kissing her. Because it would have been stupid, wouldn’t it? From outside they looked like any other couple there, them kissing would look completely normal, but for Jughead it meant passing a barrier he had been afraid of for years. The lights were blinding and the music was numbing and loud enough to remind him he was helpless in her hands, that she made him so fucking weak precisely because of how much he wanted her. Betty’s eyes were sparking with something that wasn’t alcohol or the lights, he couldn’t pinpoint what. He wasn’t crazy, because her hold of him got tighter and the distance between grew smaller, the tension so woundly tight between he felt like they would explode into a mass of colorful confetti and regret.

  
He chose to back down from it at the last second, too much of a coward to take a leap of chance - and he could see something break in her eyes, a mask falling over her face quickly and replacing it with a smile. 'I think that guy will leave me alone for now, we should find the others.’

  
He followed her into the crowd and towards the rest of the group, where Veronica took over Betty and started apologising profusely, explaining how she had no idea who the guy really was. Betty had brushed it off, but Jughead knew she was sneaking glances at him when she thought he wasn’t looking - he knew because he was doing the exact same thing. The atmosphere between them continued to be odd all throughout the night, a combination of factors that kept Jughead on edge around her all the way back home - the electricity their eyes sent off every time they would cross each other, the grimace Betty let slip when she was told how Toni had ended up talking to Jughead, the frustration that was still obviously lingering on her part, rightfully so, prior to Jughead barely talking to her all night and pretty much the entire last week and lastly, how fucking gone Jughead knew he was for her, and how much that angered him.

That may or may not had been the main reason why he was a bit stumbling, words rolling off his tongue a bit slow when they all arrived at his and Archie’s apartment, simply because it was a close walk to the bar. Betty hadn’t spoken a word to him since their moment on the dancefloor, if it could be called that, and now Jughead was left humming that damn song and biting his lip so he wouldn’t accidently start saying reckless things like 'I regret not kissing you earlier.'

As soon as they arrived, Archie and Veronica went off giggling in Archie’s room, leaving Betty and him standing awkwardly in the living room - the only thing breaking the tension that was thickening the air was the fact that they were both quite tipsy. Betty looked briefly around; probably realizing she had nothing to sleep in, and then threw a helpless look at Jughead. 

  
'Yeah, I know. Come, I’ll find you something to sleep in.’

They walked in the dim lighting of the apartment and into his room - her, barefoot and hair a bit messy, blonde locks falling on the exposed skin of her back, an unreadable expression in her eyes, and him, eyes bloodshot and so tired, a certain sweetness in his voice and in his eyes when he hands her a pair of clean boxers and a big t-shirt. She just offers him a grateful smile, and then shyly asks 'Um, can you turn around for two seconds?’

  
He obliges (not so happily) and stares at his desk for a few moments, realising that on his laptop his latest draft is still open - this makes him close it quickly, offering distraction from the thought of Betty being mostly naked just a few feet away from him. 'Done.’ When he turns around, she is already sitting cross legged on his bed, and a golden softness settles around them. The only source of light is a lamp in the corner of the room, and by the way his heart contrasts the quiet by beating out of his chest, he just knows this is it; he has to tell her, no matter what. Before he ruins himself in the process.

  
'Betty, I’ he goes to try and talk, maybe explain himself, or simply cut to the chase (he’s had enough beers to have the guts for it, apparently), but Betty cuts him off. 'No, I should talk first.’ Jughead sits back in his desk chair, deciding some distance would be good between them, wondering at the serious tone of her voice. 'I need to know two things. Firstly, I want to know why my best friend has been pretty much ignoring me for the past week, all of a sudden.’ And after, a little quieter, in a defeated whisper. 'Have I become too much for you too, Jug?’

  
He leaps forward and sits in front of her on the bed, gathering her hands in his own and rubbing circles into the skin of her palms, over her scars. 'No, no’ he murmurs, desperate. Desperate to show her how all this is cause by his own stupidity, terrified to the bone that their rupture has already begun and it’s his own fault, just as he predicted. 'I’m sorry I made you think that. No, Betty, you’re… I’m not ignoring you, I just needed a bit of space because, well, ever since’ This is where he cuts himself off, and looks up to find Betty intently looking right back at him, biting her lip anxiously. 'Yeah, that was the second thing I wanted to know.’ She takes a sharp inhale. ’ What happened at the party, the, um, favour I asked you to do for me. Do you regret it?’

  
His face drops, and his fingers stop the circular movement against her skin - his brain freezes, his synapses shut down and ice travels through his body, although, in the back of his head, he had always known that the major shift between them wasn’t all in his head, that she hadn’t forgotten their kiss. This meant she chose to go on a date the next day, probably embarrassed and trying to erase that memory. She was probably waiting for Jughead to say yes, so she can exhale and let out a relieved 'Good, me too.’

  
His expression makes Betty jump out of the bed in a panicked frenzy, and, typical to her, run around the room while talking at an almost incomprehensible pace. ’ Because I’m really sorry, I shouldn’t have put you on the spot like that, it was really not fair to you and I… I’m sorry I pretended I forgot about it, I haven’t, I’ve been thinking about it all week and how I don’t want to drive you away., and’

  
Jughead grabs her wrist and pulls her back towards the bed, a reassuring smile on his face that still kept a sad demure to it. 'Betty, it’s fine.’ Her eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and she walks a few more steps so that now Jughead sits on the edge of the bed and she positions herself between his legs, looking down at him in disbelief.

'It is?’

  
He nods, and continues. 'What were you going to say? Before I stopped you.’ His hand reaches up to cup her face - his eyes struck him helpless in his spot, too blue and too much light in them for him to be aware of anything else in that moment, too entailed in everything that she was to remembered all the nonsense he had been feeding himself all week, all the speeches about boundaries and platonic feelings. He had no notion of that when it came to Betty - he felt on fire when he even thought of her, let alone be this close, alone, while she was wearing his shirt. Looking right at him. 'I wanted to say that I’d like to do it again. And, maybe, more. But’ here, she hesitated for a second, before finishing. 'But I don’t want things between us to change, Jug.’

  
A flash passes before Jughead whispers ’ They don’t have to.’ and pulls her over him, both of them collapsing on the bed.  


 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S Pleasee leave in the comments any suggestions,predictions,requests,snippets you liked/disliked,anything. Also maybe kudos if you read? Thank you, have an amazing day


	4. No strings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Im sorry this took months, but I remembered I started this and watching the new season made me want to complete it , plus reading new bughead fanfic - so, in hopes anyone will still read this, here is the penultimate chapter. I hope you enjoy this - I'm sorry for the lack of poetry in this one, but it didn't fit the theme of it, more coming next chapter.
> 
> Playlist for reading  
> ; Ritt Momney- Pollution/Disclaimer  
> The Honeysticks- Out like a light  
> Still Woozy- Cooks

_The room spins around them, once, twice, dizzy in ways only a precise amount of alcohol mixed with intense feelings can make you. The first thing Betty does when she finds herself stood over him is take off the beanie he had immediately put back on after arriving home. One of her hands slightly brushes the skin of his neck for a second, and then quickly scrapes her nails against his scalp, slightly pulling at it with an intensity mirrored by her dark eyes. He tugs at the hem of her shirt, upwards, until it's ridden up just below her chest and he has access to the smooth skin of her torso, groaning slightly when the circles he slowly draws on it with his fingers make her smirk. He brings her closer, certain that if she keeps moving on top of him and look at him like that, he was going to explode. There is a question on both their lips, in their eyes, floating in the small space between them. It sticks in the quiet 'Betty' Jughead lets slip out in a desperate whisper, and to that Betty responds only by arching her back, pushing them deeper into the mattress, and intertwining their hands in a tight grip, locking him in place. He has no idea if this is really happening,if it’s something he should stop himself from.All he knows is that ever since that day,at the party, he’s never stopped wanting her or thinking about making her his girl, crossing the “just friends” line and just kissing her,with no explanation._

He has no idea what time it is when his eyes slowly blink open, or what are the noises he hears coming from outside of his room.All he knows is that he's not alone in his bed; he turns around gently, trying not to shift too much, and his expression opens in a surprised grimace - he has a deja vu feeling, certain in his heart that he'd dreamt this before. Betty is laying there, in his bed, peacefully asleep, even snoring a bit - this makes him smile, a smile that has a fleeting nature. It's quickly replaced with memories of last night - the blank canvas of his counsciousness paints itself in all kind of shades, inky blues reminiscent of irises, for the burst of bliss, want and 'oh my god this is happening' that took over him as Betty confessed she had thought about their kiss, that it had been real and most importantly, that she wanted it again.

There was also dark greys and red, red like the blood Jughead had seen her palms coated in too many times he should have, for everything that remained unsaid between them - on his part, mostly. He took a few minutes to just lay there, to admire (and possibly be creepy) her sleeping figure and put his thoughts in order, figure out how he's feeling about the whole thing.Question whether he'd just agreed to become friends with benefits with a girl he's in love with. Last night had been an alcohol-driven, jealousy ridden and ultimately wonderful mess; he knew they should have had a proper conversation, and this was exactly what he had intended to happen, if only if they hadn't been distracted. However, his entire being protested at the mere thought of refusing Betty and explaining how he would probably jump into a serious relationship with her tomorrow if she asked, but agreeing to being 'different kind of friends' was way too much for him to handle.

_The kissing continues for a few minutes, raising in intensity.It takes everything în him to break away from her and whisper a coarse “Jesus,Betts, either one of us has to leave or..” Her expression doesn’t change much, making it clear he’s the only one confused between them. 'Betty, what exactly is.. this?' He asks, obviously gesturing towards their odd situation, more so to the fact that she's on top of him, in his room, late at night, wearing little clothes except his tshirt.'It's just us, Jug' , she replies,and then, nervously continues 'Just being different kind of friends.. sometimes.' It was getting pretty hard to carry on a coeherent conversation, now that Betty had let go of his hands and was stradling his hips and her hands were playing with the hem of his shirt. 'Did you change your mind? Betty questions him anxiously, and his response is to shake his head and pull her back down, moving her quickly so now he was on top, hovering over her - she's taken by surprise and bursts out in laughter, which quickly melts into Jughead's mouth when he leans down and crashes their lip together, soft like honey at first, but rythmic and growing in hunger after, a flame igniting in his core when he realises this is the most Betty has been his than before._

She shifts in her sleep and Jughead rushes to look elsewhere and pretend he wasn't looking at her, just in time for the blonde to flutter her eyelids open and speak a small 'Morning' towards him. Jughead pretends he's surprised at the sound and turns back on his side to face her, choosing to keep to himself how adorable he thinks she is like that, sleep shaping her expression into a sweet kind of innocence, face a bit puffy and hair toloused in messy curls on his pillows. He watches what he assumes ar memories from last night travel on her face like clouds on a summer sky - he finds there wonder, surprise, a bit of worry. A few moments pass, and when she finally speaks, 'Do you regret it?' is the first thing she asks. 'No.' - his response is quick to come, not even a second of hesitation, because he doesn't regret anything about last night. It had been the best night of his existance, perhaps, but the trail of crashing waves in his chest and wrinkles on his forehead that it had left behind were worrysome.

He feels hazy with love, seeing her like this in his bed with sunlight playing in her hair, after she had spoken his name and it had sounded like cherry wine on her lips in the dead of the night. But they aren't together, she isn't his, this isn't it. It's so much at once, realising how much of loving her was wanting her physically and how that was only partly sexual - how he craved touching her and getting to learn the shape of her hips and the softness of her skin and how her voice sounded in the dark when her hands were tangled in his hair.

_When she stands up and confidently takes her shirt off, he stares at her in bright-eyed wonder, stars exploding behind his eyes - he is eager to get her hands back on her skin, which he does. She groans and whispers against his lips how this is unfair. Her smile is mischievious when she stops them so she can take off his shirt too, and he kisses it right off her lips, wanting to get her taste in his mouth again._

_'_ Good, me either.' she exhales, standing up and slightly streching . When her feet hit the cold floor of his room, she takes a look around and then turns around to look at him with a confused expression. 'Wait, Veronica must still be here.I can't let her see me walk out of your room like..' she means to continue 'like this', but stops in the middle of her sentence. Jughead stands up too and looks around for his tshirt, not missing the way Betty's eyes linger on his torso, and smirks. 'Like what? Like you're about to do the walk of shame home?' Betty throws the nearest pillow in his direction but she does it with a smile - this gives Jughead hope for the stability of their friendship.Maybe there is hope for them, maybe this is exactly what was needed for his feelings to subside. The walls fulls of quotes and the notebooks full of love poetry laying on his desk tell him otherwise, but illusions is all he has and he decides blindly trusting them is better than having to agonize about how would it be to kiss Betty , now that he knows how it is (in secret, of course). 'I'll go check who's home.'

After a quick inspection and a not-so-wholesome listening with his ear pressed to Archie's room, Jughead comes back to his room to find Betty dressed and anxiously waiting on the edge of his bed. As much as they both liked to think this hasn't changed them, this was the first time they had thought so much about who was going to see Betty walk out his room, although she had slept over before. 'The coast is clear, I think they are both sleeping.'

She goes to reach for the door, but stops briefly to search for his eyes. 'This was nice, let's do it again sometime?' He doesn't know what to say, except to let out a small laugh and nod his head in agreement. What else could he respond to that?

_They were way past any point în which he could recite ‘still just friends’ like a mantra for his sanity and still believe it. A pile of their clothes stood next to the bed - he had done this before and recevied great feedback,but this time he was almost cautious when he touched her, especially now that only underwear were separating her naked body from his.He couldn’t get enough of her though, kissing down her torso and slightly biting the skin of her hip, a satisfied smirk on his face when she let out a little ‘auch’ - ‘Should I stop?’ he looked up at her half cocky and half curios, a hand hovering her panties,his fingers only slightly touching her. Her hips jerked forward into him and she sighed, biting her lip ‘No, God no.’ He found that she was already extremely wet and that only made it hotter, because this wasn’t one sided- she wanted him just as much, almost begging for him to touch her._

_Which he did, taking his time to learn how she tastes and listening to the music of her soft whimpers and the feel of her fingers tangled in his hair. There was one last moment where Jughead could have backed out - way past the point of pretending this was harmless kissing, or drunkly making out - he knew what the skin of her inner thighs tasted like and knew how Betty Cooper, his longtime best friend and seemingly all around good girl, moaned - he knew it was wicked and melodious and that he wanted to hear it again and again if it was cause by his mouth on her. T_

_here was a ribbon of purple bruises from his neck down to his chest to prove she had no intention of stopping either, but right before Jughead reached for the condom in his nightstand, he stopped to make eye contact with her - she had simply nodded, the darkness in her eyes enough for him to be done with, all reason finally swept away from his mind, where now all he knew was her,her,her._

 

_______

The first day the heat of the sun make it's presence properly known is the day Veronica announces all of them to pack their sunlotion and swimsuits and meet her in front of the girls building - there are other guests too, and Veronica convinces Jughead by promising a lot of food alongside the booze she had planned (and if he's being honest, the sight of Betty in a swimsuit also plays a big part in him joining). They pack enormous coolers and straw hats into Archie's car and drive half an hour outside of the city to the Lodge's vacation home - it all has the potential to be lovely, despite the loud presence of Reggie and other jock friends Archie had invited, the loud house music he wasn't a particular fan of or the slight uneasiness he feels being in just a pair of swim trunks.

But there is Betty - in a black bikini that ties around her neck and has ribbons on either side of her hips, sunkissed and blonder than ever in the sunlight. And she isn't just Betty anymore, because now all her wonderful curves and all the skin and the sculpted legs are memories burned in his head. Seeing all the boys turn their head after her and comment with their little groups makes his blood boil - he knows them sleeping together doesn't mean he has any sort of claim over her, but it feels wrong. He should get to hold her hand in public and smudge lotion on her back.

The (slight) sexual frustrarion doesn't get any better as the day goes on. He tries to put it in the back of his head by taking leaps around the pool and reminding himself how much he loves swimming - turns out he is still pretty good at it,too. He catches Betty's eyes linger on him multiple times, but each time she turns her head, pretending to continue the conversation she was having. Her smiles betrays her, though, and later, when a group of Veronica's friends ambush him by the drink table and ask him to teach them how to swim on their back, he practically feels her eyes drilling into him the entire time. The mere possibility of Betty being jealous of his attention being focused on other girls amuses him, so he takes his time showing one of the girls the way to move her body, being extremely hands-on. When he's satissfied, he turns around to look right at her - this time she can't pretend she wasn't caught in the act.

A sort of weird tension travels between their eyes, and his eyebrow shoot up, mouthing 'What?' with a sly smile painted on his lips. Her only response is to roll her eyes and mouth 'Fuck you' back at him - he smirks, obviously meaning to convey something along the line of 'Already did, twice actually.' When she smiles back it's endearing enough for him to go and leave to pool to sit by her, but in that instant Reggie loudly greets her and requests her attention, and he tells himself he'll do it later. Talking won't probably help his feelings, anyway.

It isn’t until later that night that he gets to see a glimpse of her alone. Archie had constantly occupied his time the rest of the party, making him hang out with his ‘bros’ and play beerpong. He managed to steer away from all the peer pressure of drinking, except for a few beers. The music had been turned up, more people turned out, and Jughead started wondering how the hell did they always end up in this situation, like they were still in highschool. He figured being friends with Archie had something to do with it. All he wanted now was a few minutes of peace, to smoke and think. Somewhere in the back of the ridiculous yard the Lodge’s had hiding behind the house, Jughead managed to find a lounge chair that wasn’t occupied by a drunk, passed out teenager. Lighting his cigarette, he took a drag, and with it he exhaled a lot of the tension he was holding in.He wanted to see Betty. It was ridiculous- how the fuck did it get to her consuming him like this?

All day, whenever he would see a blonde glimpse in his vision, he would be itching to turn away from whatever he was doing and see where she was, what douchebag was chatting her up. He wondered if it was the hormones, if his body decided to re-live his puberty. He wondered, for a few moments, if this “arrangement” they had, which was mostly unspoken, was maybe the ideal solution. He got to be close to her in the way he had always secretly craved, yet they remained the same friends and there were no strings. The poetry stacking up on his desk was laughing at him. All his muses were blonde goddesses. He was able to spew off verses about her freckles just off his tongue.He dreamt about her constantly.His head hurt.

“Hey,you. I was wondering where you were hiding.” He turned around and saw her, just a few feet away, smiling shyly at him. How long had she been there,looking at him? ‘Yeah, the atmosphere out there was getting a bit too ‘The O.C’ for me.’ She had a white cardigan draped over her swimsuit and the ends of her hair were still wet, the sight of her exposed skin bringing him vivid flashbacks of his mouth on her, of her hips rocking back and forth - he decides to stop staring at her and instead looks off into the distance, hoping his newly found teenage hormones weren’t visible on his face while he gawked at her like one of the other jock assholes at the party.

He knew very well Betty was here to discuss boundaries, them sleeping together sheding light on the imminence of a talk needing to be had. He had no idea how they came to this ‘special friends’ arrangement, as she’d put it. It was a thin, dangerous line they were dancing on, and sex complicated things. While she was more vulnerable than ever and probably was using this as a distraction, he should probably put an end to this, be the rational one. While they still had a frendship to save.But.

But he loved her, and that was his biggest fault. He was practicaly asking to have his heart broken by agreeing to all this. How could he say no though? For a night, he got to pretend they were in a normal relationship. He got drunk on hearing his named moaned out of the mouth of the girl he loved. Now his emotions were tangling in a grey web of confusion and boundaries or lack there of, stuck between wanting to get to touch her like that again and wanting to preserve them and maybe considering what Toni said - that he should look after his heart,too.

She sits down next to him, clearing her throat in an attempt to get his attention-which she has,all of it,even harder for him to look away from her now that she’s so close.‘I hope I didn’t push things too far last night. We don’t have to keep doing this, if you think things will become awkward or don’t want to think of me like that’ He can’t help himself, he cups her jaw and looks at her intently, startling her a bit. ‘I]Betts, I haven’t thought of much else except that night, to be honest.’ She gulps, and inches closer, their noses almost touching. ‘Yeah, me either. I want to do it again.’ There is a slight pause, after Betty adds. ‘No strings, of course.’

She will so be the death of him. He is pliable and so easy in her hands, ready to giver her anything she wants. His heart waiting calcified on a silver platted if she so requests. His chest sinks at the reminder of all this holding no meaning for her. ‘Of course.’ he whispers, and leans in , drowning everything out in the diziness of her soft lips, slightly biting at them, their tongues chasing until one of his hands grips her naked thigh and pulls her in his lap, deciding he doesn’t care who might see them. She straddles him and he sees stars again, thinking that maybe this will work out and he will get to be in love with Betty and keep her as his best friend, too. While pulling away from her for a second, he manages to ask what he’d wanted, knowing fully that he was just asking to have his feelings hurt.

‘Why though, Betty?Why me, and why now?’ Night had fallen around them, the air velvety and chilly, the lights from the part reflecting on her face as she looked down for a second, almost apologetic in her tone. ‘Because I needed a break from all the boy drama, a distraction, you could say. And I trust us.’ His expression falls slightly, but he reshapes it quickly into a neutral one. He knew exactly what she was going to say, but that didn’t make it sting any less. ‘Plus’ she adds, running her index finger over his bottom lip, ‘This feels pretty damn great.’

Her smile is every book he’s ever loved and everything he ever wanted to be his.

This was pretty great too, he figured, and tried his best just to be grateful he had her in his life- more so, in his lap, kissing him.

________

They all sleep over at the vacation house, him and Betty sneaking into his bedroom after everyone is passed out - he carries her to his bed and stands up for a few moments after to admire her, still not believing this was happening, ignoring his rationality telling him it was just sex for her. Her eyes are mischievious and glimmering and she is breathtaking when her voice fills the dark with his name followed by a swear. This time, he is slow and gentle and takes his time , carving every detail and glittering second into his brain, painting metaphors on her skin, keeping them all for later, when the inevitable end will probably ruin them.They go to sleep tangled in each other and he feels his heart already shattering, but he chooses to ignore it, listening to her soft breathing instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please please leave me some feedback when you finish, if you want to - favorite or least favorite parts, thoughts, criticism etc.  
> also, I'm @stydiaandthejeep on tumblr.  
> xoxo


	5. All the sense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is. Thank you for everyone that read my little story (I never intended for it to go on for so long). It was really therapeutic to write and I hope you enjoyed my versions of Jughead and Betty.  
> the poem is by Tyler Knott Gregson.  
> Enjoy,  
> c.  
> mini playlist for the chapter  
> rex orange county - happiness  
> rex orange county - best friend  
> Ben Howard - promise  
> The 1975 - fallingforyou

The morning is quiet and lilac in its hues, beautifully stretching out into midday now. Everything is set up just right for a carefully woven facade to put a rose veil over his eyes. They are lying in bed. just the two of them at home, nowhere to go -and so he can indulge in all the cliches that he wants. He could get up and make pancakes for her, or they could shower together; he could go get her coffee and come back to drink it in bed. But he doesn’t - all is quiet and his fear is that this singular perfect moment would somehow be ruined if he even left the bed. His eyes are closed, taking comfort in knowing that Betty’s there, and they have time.

The dust had (slightly) settled over their new situation, having been already two weeks since the party at Veronica’s house. They spend a lot of their nights tangled up in each other, mostly in his bed - Archie shoots him wondering looks when passes Betty in the morning before class, but he doesn’t ask question and most importantly, he doesn’t say a word to anyone.

Neither do they - having arrived somehow to a mutual, mostly unspoken agreement. They don’t talk about it  - not even to Veronica, as Jughead observed, not knowing if he should worry about Betty being so ashamed of him that she wouldn’t even talk about it with her (other) best friend . They act like before in public, even more platonicaly now, trying to compensate in a way. They haven’t kissed outside of sex since the night of the pool party.

 

They don’t speak about other people they’re seeing, if they are seeing them. They hang out,get coffee, they are themselves, the same friends they’ve been since college started.

 

Jughead is miserable. 

 

Sure, the sleeping together is fucking great- if he’s honest, it’s the best he’s ever had. He gets to spend his nights with her and experience a kind of physical bounding like he’d never had before. And it’s only because he is also in love, not only attracted to her - his creative mind is going a mile a minute, often getting up in the middle of the night to work while Betty softly snores in his bed.The feeling of their skin touching when he rustles in his sleep, the golden locks sprawled out on his navy sheets, seeing her fresh-faced and sleepy in the morning. It’s all a high he runs his days on.He gets to hold her at night and breath in her scent and say goodnight to someone, and that’s not something he takes lightly. He knows that it is rare in this world.

But he is still, despite all this, miserable. His whole body aches to touch her when they’re in public, to hold her hand while walking and to kiss her forehead goodbye when they depart. He wants to take her out for dinner, run his hand through her hair when she’s stressed, kiss her whenever, no matter who would see them. To tell her she is loved, to explain how extremely un-superficial it all is, every feeling he harbors towards her, be it a platonic or romantic one. How he is absolutely, without a doubt tied with a thousand strings to her, in ways he wish didn’t exist. And how it hurts to be on the other side of the looking glass and marvel at all the things you could have if only someone found it in them to love you like you love them.

However, she doesn’t owe him anything.  It was his decision to accept this, too weak to turn down being with her, even if it’s not in the way he would want them together. So he cherishes moments like this, when the noose around him feels a bit looser. They laze around in bed, talking and just being in a wonderful limbo state, a vinyl spinning on his record player(that Betty had teased him about , and then gifted him more discs for just a few days later). They had been quiet for a bit, Betty playing on her phone and him lying with his eyes closed, slightly dozing off. He feels her roll around so she can face him, and he reads her so well that he knows instantly that she is about to ask a favor.

“I know that face.What is it,Cooper?” his tone is skeptic but his face totally gives him off - a smile that exhudes ‘I will probably do it no matter what it is’. 

“Hey”The girl tries to act offended, but quickly laughs it off and continues. “I was wondering if..If you’d read me something from what you’ve been working lately.”

He freezes. His work,except for school, had mostly consisted of working on the outline for a novel he is planning - and of course, embarassing amounts of love poems. He knows that reading some of them would be suicidal - they mention blonde hair and best friends, and Betty is the smartest girl he knows. “I hear you at night, you know.When you sneak out of bed to work.So,please?”

The smile she gives him is the purest, sweetest thing he’d ever seen, disarming him completly.He sighs, rubbing his eyes, then ruffles her hair a bit, making her protest. ‘Alright, I will. You’re lucky you’re pretty.’ Her eyes get wider and shinier at his remark, but he figures it’s because of the compliment itself. His face falls when he turns around.

 

He feels his knees tremble when he gets up to look for his notebook.Taking long breaths is he can really do - worst case scenario, he’d have to make up a girl and explain she is the inspiration (in case Betty asks question, which she will, because she has the curiosity of a journalism major).As he’s looking through his papers, anxiety ridden and ready to burst, on the verge on giving up on the idea and just tell Betty he’s not going to do it- he happens upon a scribbled post it, one he remembers writing the night he got home after the closest thing they ever had to a real date, when his urges almost determined to close the gap between their lips. The taste of frustration and saddness, somehow like a bitter schnaps, was still lingering on his tongue. 

‘So..I’m trying to put a little volume of poetry together and this is uh, a possible one.’ It was ridiculous, how nervous and exposed this made him feel; Betty had read some of his writing before, even offered great advice -yet starting to read quietly while also trying to conceive his shaking hands felt like touching a raw nerve. 

 

“I will never be the first

of so many things

for you.I came too late,

after life and love

were woven into the 

tapestry

of your existance. I care not

about lost firsts,

but I will fight, knuckles

bloody and teeth sharpened,

for your lasts.

Take the old firsts

and put them to rest,

silent bellow the dirt

and ash of all the new ones

we will burn through.

Take them,but

give me the

lasts.”

 

He doesn’t dare to look at her immediately after, too afraid of the colors he’d see in her eyes.Too afraid she’d noticed how his were damp with tears.He sighs and sits next to her, silently looking at the ground. That was one of his more hopeful,simpler pieces, even if it didn’t seem too. Behind it he hid all the dreams he wouldn’t dare speak into existance in daylight - and if it was any good, it was because she was his muse.

‘That’s.. I,I dont’t know what to say.” Her frazzled voice startles him, finding that she had been studying him this whole time. He doesn’t know what to say as well. What could he say? He was in love  and she wasn’t, and that was all that was to it. Her hand softly lays over his, tone vibrant with certainty when she speaks next. “I really liked it, Jug.” 

Jughead really hopes she was being honest. He wrote it for her, after all, she just didn’t know it. Or did know it, but wanted nothing of it. It didn’t matter either way. The way he wielded his words in his amateur poetry really didn’t do her justice - the softness of her skin, the shades in her hair, how expressive her eyes were. He really hopes that if they weren’t meant to be after all, at least someone worthy would get to be with her.

“You are really beautiful, you know?” He whispers, looking at her shyly. She should know, even if all the guys she had been dating lately were assholes and life had been tough with school and everything. She should be reminded of that every day. 

Her face lit up hearing him, eyes wide with surprise, a hand over her mouth to cover a big smile that she thought was goofy, but that he loved. It was silent for a while, and he could feel her eyes not leaving him once- when he looked back, she wasn’t smiling anymore, just thoughtfully observing him- her eyes trained on his lips. He could feel her closing in the space between them, her small hands now slightly running through his messy hair,sending shivers down his spine. His pulse spiked up in anticipation, not sure of what was happening or why - suddenly, they were kissing, but it didn’t feel like before. It wasn’t heated or tipsy with alcohol, it didn’t have want or sexual tension being released. It was just them, a current of energy flowing through , an emotion being shared. It was more intimate than anything they’d ever did, so he did his best to really let her know how much he loved her through it, wondering if this was something people who share no feelings really usually do. He figured they didn’t.

They lingered there for a few minutes, finally pulling away with little kisses, forehead touching.He wants to ask what this was. He wants to ask her if she felt it too, this heavy feeling pressing on his chest, making him breathe shallow. If she could truly say there were no consequences, no tangled feelings, a truly space of platonic friendship in the air between their lips right now.

He doesn’t get to. Betty got up suddenly, an alarmed look in her eyes, mumbled something about having to go, and storms out before Jughead could even let himself dream this was finally becoming more.

____________

 

Two days pass without any contact between them. The first few hours he’d worn rose colored glasses, convinced this was just a bit of space needed for them to process that kiss, for her to maybe get some distance and think clear-headed. He’d texted her that night, just a simple ‘Goodnight, I hope all is okay.’ - with no response, leaving him to stare at the phone screen for an embarassing amount of time.Sleeping without her felt odd now, his body already accustomed to hers, waiting for her to snore softly, to turn around and find her there, warm and halfway dreaming, protesting if he wouldn’t wrap his hand around her waist. The first day he wakes up completly oblivious, a gnawing worry in the back of his head, but still convinced everything was alright and this was simply a time to respect her need for space.

It felt odd though, especially after two weeks of being together nonstop, her practically living in his apartment - but he chose to supress it with schoolwork, trying not to look at his  other work or even consider writing poems for a while. His eyes fall over a quote,’The greatest damage you can do to your soul is by remembering the past you should have forgotten over time.’, and he ponders over the sting this produces deep within him. Maybe his love for his best friend was just this, a damaging force he should’ve buried a long time ago, from when it even sparked. 

He needed to clear his head, so he’d spent the better part of an almost hour long run trying not to think of Betty. When he finally got home, he found Veronica sitting in his kitchen, looking fairly concerned, fidgeting on one of the bar stools.’Jughead,hey. I’ve been waiting for you, Archie told me you were out.’ This was odd for multiple reasons- Veronica hardly made an effort like this unless something was wrong. He sat down next to her, pouring them both some coffee. ‘Why do I have the feeling this has something to do with Betty?’

Veronica cleared her throat, her tone turning slightly icy.

‘She was fine two days ago, but then she came back from here and she’s been shutting herself in her room ever since. You can imagine why I’m here.’

Jughead’s eyebrows knit with worry-he looked at her, trying to read if there was more to her words- if Betty had perhaps sent her to get rid of him, let down his feelings easy, without confrontation between them.He got up and poured his coffee into the sink, too nervous to drink anymore, anticipating Veronica’s words. ‘Jughead, I’m not blind. I know the.. terms of your friendship have changed. And I haven’t asked any questions because it’s not my place,but’

‘Look, Veronica, if Betty sent you to cut ties with me for her, just get it over with. I promise I won’t cry in front of you or anything.’ Jughead let out a small huff of nervous laughter, not even sure about the ‘not crying’ part.

‘Oh god, you are both such idiots. No, that’s not why I’m here. Jughead, do you love her?’

He turned around from the pantry he was rumeging through,wide eyed, not sure how to react. Veronica didn’t seem to be ready to back down, patiently waiting for his response. He let out a heavy sigh and sat back down, his entire figure relaxing into complete honesty. ‘Yeah, I do.’ - he realised how easy this was to see, for anyone around them, especially her best friend. It must’ve been written all over his face whenever he glanced at Betty. So there was no use denying it, especially if it already ruined their friendship. Veronica’s face softened. ‘I thought so. Here’s the thing- I think she loves you too.’ Jughead went to protest, but the girl cut him off. ‘I know her better than you do, honey. I haven’t seen her this happy before, especially not when she was with one of those douches she used to date. But it’s clear she’s in denial, and that’s why she’s trying to back away now. Don’t let her. ‘ Jughead simply stared at her, dumbfounded. ‘I have to go, but please give this some thought.’

Veronica gathered her purse and put on her fur coat, giving Jughead’s shoulder a sympathetic squeeze before leaving. 

‘Confront her about her feelings.You both deserve to be happy.’ The boy raised his eyebrows in disbelief.

‘And what if it ruins everything?’

Veronica smiled, in a sort of bitter,melancholic manner. ‘Look at how you two are right now - she might as well know you love her, if nothing else happens.’ 

While he was sat there, wondering what the hell he was supposed to do next, still shook from Veronica’s visit, his phone buzzed. No surprise, it was a text from her.

‘I’m having a little movie marathon tonight, and you and Archie are invited.Please come.xo,V.’

______

 

The ‘little’ movie marathon was in fact, as Jughead should have expected, a sort of dressed down party with a video projector and an absurd amount of pillow covering every inch of the girls living room. The whole way there was an absolute mess, an awkward attempt from Archie to ask why Betty wasn’t around the last days, followed by Jughead simply turning up the volume on the deppressing song he was playing and Archie not complaining about it, which hardly happened.He recognised Toni and her group of friends on the couch as soon as he arrived, leaving Archie to look for Veronica while he headed their way, prolonging the inevitable.He texted Toni on the off occasion, letting little bits of his recent struggles slip out from time to time.

As soon as he sat down next to them, saying hello to a few familiar faces, all of Toni’s friends left in a fit of hidden laughter and suggestive eyebrow raises, making them alone in the corner of the enormous couch. ‘Don’t mind them, they still think something’s going to happen between us.’ Jughead nodded, slightly amused, remembering that night at the club and how charming he found Toni, knowing he’d really hit it off with her if he wasn’t.. well, if there wasn’t Betty.  ‘So I guess you haven’t told them about..’ Jughead accepted the drink Toni offered him and let his sentence trail off, trying his best not to let his eyes wander around the room. Toni leaned in, casually resting a hand on his shoulder.

‘About you being in love with blondie over there, who’s currently imagining killing me with her deathly stare? No, I haven’t.’ Jug turned slightly to see where Toni was pointing with her drink, and found Betty, squished between Veronica and their friend Kevin on one of the pillows, completly ignoring whatever conversation they were having and blatantly staring at them with icy eyes. Soon she noticed she had been discovered, so she painted a fake smile on, looking away and back to her conversation, as if nothing happened. She was jealous, he knew that much- maybe there was some truth to Veronica’s words, because Betty Cooper was jealous for him. He smiled back at Toni, who was smirking mischieviously, taking his cup from his hand and drinking from it. ‘Topaz, what are you doing.’ Her other hand was on his thigh for a few seconds before she started twirling her hair with it.

‘I’m making ponytail notice what she’s been missing. Now, shh, the movie is about to start.’ He shook his head, slightly amused and slightly frustrated that he didn’t have a chance to talk to Betty. She didn’t make a move to aknowledge his presence, except for the burning stare he felt on him and Toni whenever he didn’t look her way - so his ambitions and determination died down quickly, yet somehow still aching to see her, touch her. 

A lot of the movie went over his head, having enough halfway through and getting up to escape to their balcony.What he didn’t expect was Betty getting up, despite Veronica’s worried glances, and quickly following him, shutting the door behind her with force. ‘So, we don’t talk for two days and you’re already with her now?’ Her eyes were wet, but he knew how she looked like when she was crying- these were tears of frustration, as was her scratchy tone. It only made his blood boil, having had enough of this game, enough of pretending. Hearing Betty come at him like this hit him harder than he cared to admit. ‘You’re the one who’s been ignoring me, Betty. I don’t know what you want from me.’ he spat back, feeling his pocket for his packet and then lighting a cigarette ,leaning against the banister to confront her. ‘You didn’t answer my question.’ Betty bit back.

 

A wave of emotion bubbled up to the surface, no longer being able to restrain, raising his tone a bit more than he intended. ‘ Why do you care? You said no strings. You were very clear of that, even though we both know it was bullshit.’  His voice trembled on the last word, and he sighed when he noticed Betty had real tears in her eyes now, yet she was still ready to argue with him. ‘Because you’re my friend, Jughead. You always were.’ He hated the way she accentuated the last phrase. As if any of it had been platonic, watching the stars on the hood of his car,kissing under a blanket fort they had made, the bickering like an old couple while shopping, the shower sex late at night - it spiked his pulse, how could someone just discarded all of it because it suited them. 'Yeah, sure.'

Their voices were probably loud enough to give Veronica’s neighbours a show, and yet he didnt care. Something took over him, a complete lack of reason,filter,of caring. ‘No, Betty, it’s because you can’t stand the thought of me kissing Toni.Will you please admit it,at least that, or are you that deep in denial about your emotions and about how things have changed?’ he yelled.

‘Oh, like you know what my feelings are better than me.’Betty wiped her tears and went back to a calm, restrained voice.

‘Nothing changed, we said it wouldn’t.’ She avoided holding his gaze.Her face fell, and his heart sunk in- in the tension floating in the air, a few seconds was all it took because he realised just how stupid he was.What if everyone was wrong?Veronica,Toni,his intuition - what if she truly felt nothing on the other end, and this was her trying desperately to let go? the ugly stares simply because she caught on about what Toni was doing, the intimacy all a result from the sex, everything else just their bond as friends?

‘ It did for me. Do you really still think it was all about sleeping together for me?’She shrugged her shoulders, making him leap forward, not wanting to accept that she simply didn’t see -he looked for her hands, tangling them together, desperate to get a reaction from her. Anything, a whisper, some sort of sign of agreement. His whole body was a string of frazzled tension, stumbling in the dark for the switch. ‘I mean, Jesus Christ, the poem, the date - that kiss in my bedroom, Betty you,you must know that I’ 

The blonde didn’t say a word. That’s what really got him, not the tears or his cold hands looking for hers in a desperate attempt to connect, but her not confirming nor denying, completely oblivious of what was so obvious and important to him. His voice broke into a whisper, softly touching her cheek so she would look at him. ‘ C’mon, you know that I,I’

A kaleidoscope of memories and feelings tangled together formed in his mind that instance, and he knew what he needed from now on was time and space to heal from this, to heal from her and put himself together,figuring out how to be himself without all the love holding him together and pouring itself as ink on his paper. He let go of her quietly, leaving all the hope he had harboured in a deep sigh. ‘Nevermind, then. I’ll go.’

 

_________

 

In their two years of friendship, Betty and Jughead never went longer than a few days without contact at all. They had multiple weeks where they were each other’s goodmorning and goodnight texts.If one of them got a good grade, or had a shitty day, they were the first ones to hear about it. The simplicity of their friendship was what made it them - if Jughead texted her, Betty would be at his apartment in half an hour with coffee and willing to study all night for him not to freak out about his exam anymore. He could pull up in front of her building and text if she wanted to ride around and listen to music  and Betty would already be putting her shoes on. She was that someone he would trust with his life, and that he wanted to protect too, always, with any price. Loving her always came second, always took a backseat to their friendship. Yet somehow, getting to experience the ‘what if’ changed that, and suddenly his love consumed them and brought them here, neither of them having heard from each other in two weeks; Jughead knew she was alive and well because he nagged Veronica about it and then made her promise she wouldn’t mention it to her roomate. 

He knew this was what poetry was basically built on - heartbreak. But he couldn’t pick up a pen or his laptop, the thought of letting all that pent up energy go into words exhausting him even more. He chose to completly shut down his emotions, walking around the flat like a ghost  - neither sad nor happy, going to school and then home and so on, save from a brief, ten minute talk that Archie demanded, in which Jughead coldy explained the events of the last two months.

His roomate looked at him with sympathy and gave the obligatory ‘I’m always here if you need me.’talk , followed by a warning about giving him one more week of ‘moping around’ before he would personally drag him out of his room and back into society. Jughead nodded along, no real intention to follow up on that - all he wanted was to be left alone to lick his wounds, to make peace with his first real love turning out to be a mess, and losing his friend in the process too.

 

The only reason he even considered leaving his room that evening was because he knew for a fact Archie was out and he hadn’t ordered anything, yet their doorbell kept ringing, insisting even though he ignored it for the first few minutes. Slightly annoyed, he opened the door without checking who it was first, a forceful ‘What do you want’ instead of a polite hello - he quickly regretted it, because on the other side stood his (former?) best friend, beautiful  as always, but looking even worse than he did, if that was possible, lacking all the enthusiasm that made her energy golden before.

‘I’m sorry, I tried calling,but.Um, can I come in?’ There was a slight pause, in which Jughead realised he had a blanket around his shoulders and probably a coke stain on his shirt, suddenly aware how pathetic he must have looked.'Sure' Alarms were going off in his head about how wrong this was and how it would ruin the 'work' he had put in the past weeks, yet the sight of her back in his house, sitting on his couch was endearing.

He hoped this wasn’t her returning a tshirt he left over or something along those lines, because it hurt like hell - seeing her, even after two weeks since their fight, was a punch in the throat. Jughead wasn’t ready just yet - for her clear eyes, made sadder by the dark circles under them, and for how soft her glance felt over him, studying him quietly. ‘Betty, I’m sorry I haven’t texted or anything, I just need some space before I can-’ He turned around from locking his door back and almost bumped into her,standing right there, painfully close. Offering a small smile like a peace offering.

‘I get it. But I really missed you, and I’m sorry for the way I acted.’ He smiled back, so gone for her, and opened his arms for her to slip into and wrap her hands around his torso. They stayed there for a moment - warm and quiet, his lips slightly ghosting over the crown of her head, intoxicated by everything. Her voice was muffled by his chest, but still audible in the night.'I'm actually here because' The following seconds felt like the longest in Jughead's life.

‘Jug,If you still -I mean, I came here because I want to try. Try being more than friends.’ Through their clothes, he could feel how fast her heart was beating - a wave of love, excitment, worry, happiness washed over him, forming a small smile on his face while his hands searched for hers. He asked ‘Can I kiss you?’, because that was all the truly wanted in that moment.

The girl nodded, and the second their lips met a little voice in his heart sighed with content, completely sure this was what was missing from his life, the simple sensation of their lips together, not even bound by lust but simply by a connection he never hoped he would find. ‘Betty,I’

‘I know’ she nodded,her hands still lingered on his skin, soft on his cheek, their lips barely apart from each other. ‘I think I do too. But we have time,let’s just be us for now. I just want you to be mine,that’s all.’ 

‘I’ve been yours for a while now, love.’ Her eyebrows shot up in surprise at the nickname he let slip out already, but her smile prevented him from taking it back. ‘Except you’re properly mine too,now.’He picked her up and twirled them around the room once, making her laugh in the most beautiful, crystal clear sound he’d ever heard, before putting her down and kissing her gently,as if he was afraid he was about to wake up from whatever this was, chest bursting with love and head spinning with worry, overshadowed by the incredible notion he was trying to wrap his mind around - she was there, in his arms, and she felt the same. 

 

He once read a love letter that started with the words ‘My mouth hasn’t shut up about yours since you kissed it.’ Truthfully, his whole body hadn’t shut up about Betty since that night, when something broke and alcohol and magic mixed for them to stumble into each other at that party and kiss, making them possible. For a long time he willed it to stop talking about her, stop loving her, in fear it was all pointless - but now he knew. It made all the sense in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave me any feedback about the chapter or the story itself - favorite parts, comments,thoughts, criticism.  
> Thank you so much to anyone that commented, I looked forward to each one and they all helped shape the narrative.  
> ly.


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